A Forest in the Dark
by darksupernatural
Summary: Sam and Dean come up against a monster on a hunt, forcing them to take shelter in a storm when something bad happens. Reviews welcome. It's what keeps me writing. Don't own anything but my monster. The guys belong to Kripke.
1. Chapter 1

A Forest in the Dark

Watkins Point, Utah was a wilderness area riddled with mines and caves. The closest town was twenty miles away. A farm town. The distance of the town from the wilderness area didn't stop animals from going missing every day. Something was using Watkins Point as a hunting ground. And Dean had caught wind of it while looking for their next hunt. He'd found a newspaper article with a picture of an animal track in the mud. Alarm bells went off for Dean. He'd seen a print like that before. He knew they had a hunt.

Now Sam was driving the Impala. One of the handful of times he'd driven since the semi plowed into them over a year ago. _Has it really been over a year?_ He mused to himself, half listening to the new rock music playing softly in the background. He was listening enough to know that one of the Shinedown songs he liked was playing.

Dean was lounging in the passenger seat, asleep, with his arm propped up on the door panel. His head was resting on the back of his forearm as his hand lay back over his right shoulder against his neck. Sam had been driving for the last 200 miles and was beginning to get too comfortable behind the wheel of the car again. The memory of the wreck still bothered him. It was hard to get past the fact that he'd been driving when his dad and brother had come too close to getting killed. He didn't want to become careless and risk history repeating itself.

Sam shook himself from his reverie and glanced at Dean. He was okay, that was all that mattered to Sam. He glanced back at the road enough to see a sign._ Welcome to Utah. Crossroads of the West._

"Good." Sam said quietly. He was tired and the Impala needed gas. He reached for his GPS and gauged the distance to the town nearest Watkins Point. He had about an hour of driving before he reached Gunnison. Then he could find them a motel and he and Dean could get some decent sleep before checking into and hopefully taking out their next hunt.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam pulled into town as the sun was coming up. The slower speed woke Dean.

"Mornin' Princess." Sam quipped, smiling at Dean when he yawned and pushed himself up in the seat. "Sleep well?"

"No." Dean said; rubbing what was obviously a stiff neck. Sam reached out without a word; not even looking away from the road and his hand took on its healing glow. The warmth and light soothed Dean's ache.

"Dude, what did I tell you?" Dean asked, swatting Sam's hand away. "I'm so gonna kick your ass."

"You told me you didn't want me healing you if you were hurt. A stiff neck isn't hurt Dean, it's uncomfortable."

"I told you I didn't want you doing that, at all! Sam, after what happened two weeks ago…"

"Dean, that was different. You had stopped breathing. That's why it took a lot out of me."

"Dammit Sam, it did more than take a lot outta you. It put you in a coma!" Sam cracked his neck after the tension Dean had felt lodged itself at the base of his skull.

"A stiff neck's not gonna put me in a coma, Dean." He reached up and this time soothed his own ache.

Dean let it drop, even though he wasn't happy with it. Sam considered healing small injuries and aches practice. Using his abilities to do amazing things had become part of who his baby brother was now. The same went for his now darker hair and deep green eyes that glowed with the use of his abilities. Dean accepted it unconditionally, just like he always had when it came to something Sammy.

"So, where are we anyway?" Dean asked stifling another yawn.

"Just pulled into Gunnison, Utah. It's the town closest to Watkins Point. You're gas guzzler needs fed and I want to get us a room. I'm tired."

"Okay." Dean said seeing a sign advertising Gunnison Inn. "Pull in there, Sammy. We'll check in and I'll take the car for gas and breakfast, while you grab some shut eye."

"And a shower." Sam added.

The closed sign in the motel office window was shut off as they pulled in. Dean caught sight of a lovely black haired woman through the window and winked at Sam.

"Man, I think I'm gonna like it here." He snarked.

"Hffft." Sam breathed a laugh, rolling his eyes as he pushed open the heavy driver's door with a squeak. They went into the office and checked in under aliases with a new fake credit card, renting a room for the week.

"Here you go Mr.…Reid." The black haired girl said smiling at Dean. She was just about his age and Dean's first glance was accurate. She was "nice."

"Call me Dean." He said, flashing an eye crinkling grin, ignoring Sam as he went back outside.

"Rachel." She said, returning the smile.

"Any ideas where I could get gas in my car and breakfast for my brother Sam and I?"

"Rob's café is four blocks up and Jerry's is three streets north from that. It's a service center and gas station."

"Thanks, Rachel." Dean said, flashing another grin as he picked up two keys marked 12.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam waved at Rachel from outside and went to the trunk of the Impala, waiting impatiently on Dean. He took his sweet time walking up to the car. By that time Sam had used his key to open the trunk and had their bags in his hands. Dean was still lagging behind, gawking at Rachel.

"Dude." Sam said annoyed, swinging Dean's duffle bag at his head to get his deviant brother's attention. Dean caught the bag with a startled look on his face.

"Okay Grandma. Looks like somebody needs a nap."

"Shut up." Sam threatened.

"Make me." Dean quipped.

"Dude, you're like a lovesick puppy."

"Don't give me that. You're the one who's whipped."

"I'm not whipped. I'm taken."

"And I'm a free agent." Dean grinned. "You're still whipped." He said, referring to Sam's relationship with Kira. Sam rolled his eyes, unlocking the door to their room.

He laughed, "Wouldn't you be?"

"Yeah." Dean said.

Sam dropped his bag and shed his jacket. Toeing off his shoes, he laid down on his usual bed, automatically giving Dean the one closest to the door as always. He sighed, closing tired eyes against the sunlight. Dean pulled the curtains and went to wash up before heading out for breakfast for both them and the Impala. When he emerged from the bathroom Sam was asleep.

Dean couldn't help but watch Sam sleep for a minute. He seemed so much more content now. His life wasn't filled with pain from brain bleeding visions or a deep seated fear that he was destined to become evil.

"Sleep well little brother." Dean said softly as he pulled his jacket back on and headed out the door. He put the "Do Not Disturb" Sign on the door and double checked the lock. Finally feeling that Sam was safe, he wondered how the food was at the café.

Dean went to the service station first, feeding his baby her breakfast, and then doubled back to the café. He sat at the bar and looked over the local paper while he waited on their food. When the waitress brought it to him he also bought a copy of the paper, then he returned to the motel. He still didn't like leaving Sam alone.

His little brother was still asleep when Dean returned with breakfast. He sat at the table and read the paper, wanting Sam to sleep some more before he woke him to show him the article. He had found another story on the missing farm animals and had just finished reading it when Sam stirred.


	4. Chapter 4

"Mmmm. Do I smell coffee?" Sam asked standing from the bed with a stretch.

"Yep."

"And breakfast?"

"Told ya I was gonna score us some food."

"Thanks for lettin' me sleep man."

"Welcome." Dean said, biting into his sandwich. He swallowed and flipped the paper around for Sam to read the article.

"_DNR Searching for Possible Pack of Wolves." _ Sam read.

"Yeah, man. We know that's crap."

"How much do we know about this…?"

"Raskcanava." Dean filled in Sam's blank.

"Right."

"Man, these things are bad ass. Dad only heard of them, like, three years ago. He said a hunter Bobby knew came up against one of these things in Oregon. Left the guy paralyzed. They look like wolves with armor plating and they have a Mohawk of poison tipped spikes down the back of their necks. They can lower their heads and shoot the spikes by tensing muscles in their back. The poison is what does the paralyzing. Dad said that the hunter managed to kill the thing with a crossbow. Shot it at the base of the throat. It's the only vulnerable spot on the damn thing."

"And you recognized the tracks from the picture in the paper?"

"Dad has a sketch in his journal. The hunter sketched it for Bobby and Dad thought it might be important. He copied it." Dean said as he went to retrieve the journal from his bag. "Here." He said as he put it on the table and showed Sam, returning to his breakfast. Sam was eating when his eyes fell on the picture. He swallowed hard.

"Damn. That thing's ugly."

"And deadly."

"Looks like."

"Alright. We go out tonight. Full moon. It'll be a good night to track this bitch down before it escalates from dogs and cows to kids and farmers." Dean said finishing his breakfast.

The boys relaxed most of the morning, both getting some more much needed sleep. They then ate lunch at the café and talked to the locals, finding out as much about the area and terrain as they could. They used the pretense of being filmographers for the Discovery Channel. Everyone they talked to warned them to stay away from an area called Lawson's Mine. They said it was dangerous and that strange things happened there. It was also located dead center in the Watkins Point wilderness area. When the guys had all the information they needed that's exactly where they went.


	5. Chapter 5

It had begun to drizzle as Dean pulled the Impala as far off the trail as he could to avoid it being seen. The last thing they needed was more prey in the area for the Raskcanava. Dean went to the trunk and loaded a backpack with weapons, ammo and the med kit. He then put in Lighter fluid and a camping shovel. His Zippo was in his pocket. Sam joined him, checking the rounds in his .45 and Dean's .50 caliber. The gun they would use to take the beast out. Dean put his Colt in his waist band, Sam following suit with his .45. Then Sam reached for a crossbow and made sure there was plenty of ammo and arrows in the bag. Sam and Dean both strapped hunting knives to their wrists and slid daggers into their boots in hidden sheaths. It was still drizzling and turning dark as they set off for the interior of Watkins Point and Lawson's Mine.

They hiked in quietly, hardly making a sound, their hunter senses doing what they did best and scanning every sound for menace. They made it to the mine area three hours later, the roughness of the terrain an unexpected hindrance. There were rocks and brush everywhere making their trek more cautious than expedient.

Sam and Dean were scouting around the mine area when a smell assaulted their noses making both brothers gag. It was definitely the smell of rotting meat.

"Oh yuck." Dean said as he rounded a bend in the almost nonexistent trail and came across the carcass of a very rotten half eaten calf.

"Oh man, that's nasty." Sam echoed amidst a stomach lurch.

Dean motioned quickly for Sam to quiet. Both hunters stilled instantly, eyes alert and weapons ready. There was something moving in the underbrush twenty yards to their left, along the trail they had used to enter the mine area. Another smell greeted their abused nostrils as the wind shifted. Wet dog.

"Here comes our puppy." Dean muttered, raising his .50 caliber pistol silently and bracing for the recoil if he could get a shot off. The Raskcanava rounded the bend in the trail and came into view. It was far uglier than their dad's journal depicted. Sam sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of the animal. It resembled a wolf in color, but that was where the similarity ended. It was shorter and stockier, built more like a pit bull with the face of a wild boar. Instead of tusks it had a mouth full of pointed, bone crushing teeth, and two large fangs on both top and bottom beneath its yellow cat-like eyes. Saliva dripped from the fangs as its nostrils flared, taking in the scents around it. The Raskcanava fixed its eyes on Sam and Dean, growling deep in its throat, as it lowered its head.

Dean stepped back, herding Sam behind him. He kept the .50 caliber's aim steady as the beast watched their backwards progress. The Raskcanava tensed, flexing its front paws with their lethal two inch long talons, and the poison tipped projectiles along its neck stood on end with another flex of powerful muscles.

The Raskcanava growled again, showing intelligence as it met and held the hunter's gazes one after the other. It stepped forward, closing the distance the hunters' wary retreat created, again lowering its head. The spikes on its neck rattled audibly with the movement. It lunged.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam raised his crossbow, getting off a shot that hit the creature in its right eye. The creature blinked odd sideways eyelids and the arrow ricocheted off. It inflicted enough pain to make the creature rear up on its hind legs and bellow in rage.

RROOOOOOOAAAAAAROOOOOOOOOOO! It stomped its front feet as it landed on all fours again and lowered its head, swiping at the injury with its front paw. Sam took the beast's distraction to full advantage, pulling Dean with him trying to get behind the animal and back on the trail. They ran full out for five minutes stopping when they became winded. Sam lowered crossbow bearing hands to his knees, catching his breath and looked at Dean.

"Man, my arrow didn't even hurt the thing Dean. I hit it dead center in the eye."

"Its eyes must have the same protection as the rest of its body. Armor plating of some kind, but it's not as strong as the rest. You caused some pain with that shot."

"Yeah, I pissed it off. What are we gonna do?"

"We have to get it to rear up again so I can take a shot at it with this baby." Dean said, brandishing the large pistol. It had begun raining harder during their flight through the underbrush. Both boys were beginning to get wet and uncomfortable, wanting to end this hunt now.

"Yeah, okay." Sam said as they heard the Raskcanava crashing through the underbrush hot on their trail. It came into the small clearing that the almost invisible trail created in the forest. The guys turned to face the beast, Dean again stepping in front of Sam. Sam was tall enough to fire the crossbow over Dean's shoulder. It was also Dean's way of protecting his little brother. _The creature can poison and paralyze me; at least I won't have to live that way for years. I only have twenty eight weeks left to live anyway. _

The Raskcanava locked a watery eyed gaze with Sam, growling menacingly deep in its throat. The animal tensed and lowered its head. Sam fired the crossbow again. This time the animal moved its head and the arrow bent before glancing off armor and sticking crookedly into the trunk of a nearby tree.

"Damn, this thing learns fast." He said nervously as he pulled his .45 from his waistband, firing repeatedly as the creature advanced. He fired four rounds directly into the beast face. It again bellowed and reared up on its hind legs. Dean fired the .50 caliber at the things neck.

"Dammit." He swore. _Not fast enough. _ The bullet glanced off the Raskcanava's lowering shoulder, blowing a hole in the trunk of a tree the size of a bowling ball. It lowered its head with a roar and fired several spines at Sam and Dean. They whistled as they flew through the rain laden air. Dean turned and tackled Sam as the projectiles sailed over their heads, only missing by inches.

"Drop!" Dean screamed. They hit the ground with a thud, moisture seeping into their clothing.

"Uunnghh!" Came the unmistakable cry of pain from Sam as he shuddered once and lay still beneath Dean. His cry was lost to Dean's ears, blocked out by the roar of the Raskcanava. Dean turned from his position and emptied the pistol into the Raskcanava, striking it once in the open mouth and sending a few teeth all directions from the beast's mouth. It reared and staggered backwards, driven off into the woods by the noise and the pain.

"Thank god." Dean muttered; standing and going after the pack he'd dropped when the Raskcanava made itself known. He reloaded the pistol.

"Sammy, we gotta get somewhere we can defend. We need some kind of shelter where this bitch can't get behind us again. I think it's the only way we're gonna smoke this thing." Dean turned and his gaze fell on his brother…


	7. Chapter 7

…unconscious on the ground.

"Sammy!!" Dean yelled rushing to his side. Sam was lying on his back with one foot tucked under his other knee. His head was lying at an odd angle, slightly off the ground.

"Sammy! Sam!" Dean put a hand to his chest, feeling it rise and fall steadily with his breaths, beneath his wet shirt. "Sam. Talk to me." Dean lifted his head and recoiled, going cold inside, as blood filled his palm and his knuckles scraped off a rock beneath Sam's head.

"Oh God." He whispered. "Sam, come on kiddo." Dean picked him up into a sitting position, resting Sam's head against his chest to look at the injury. His fingers gently probed the bloody gash on the back of his brother's head about an inch below the crown. He grimaced. "You're skulls not fractured, but you definitely need stitches. I gotta get you to some kind of shelter." Dean looked for the crossbow, which had flown from Sam's grasp on impact with the ground. Finding it ten feet away he retrieved it and put it in the pack, which he placed on his back. He gripped Sam under the arms, locking his pistol laden hands around his chest. Dean did not want to drag his brother backwards through the woods unarmed. They made slow progress back towards the mine entrance where Dean could help his bleeding brother.

Hearing nothing of the Raskcanava, Dean figured it was safe to use the entrance as shelter. He knew from talking to the locals that this was the only way into or out of the mine. It would be easily defended and semi-safe. It was also dry.

"Okay, Sammy. Let's get you cleaned up." Dean said laying his brother down on the stone floor on his stomach. He opened the pack and pulled out the med kit. He removed peroxide and sterile gauze, along with a suture kit. Dean cleaned the wound, moving Sam's hair aside gently and stitched it carefully. It required sixteen tiny stitches. Sam was still unconscious when Dean rolled him gingerly onto his back, positioning his head so there was no pressure on the wound. He was beginning to shiver.

Dean removed his leather jacket and covered Sam with it. "I gotta go get some firewood, Sammy. I need to get you warm and dry. A fire should keep that son of a bitch outta here too. I'm not going far. Be back in a minute." He strode to the mouth of the mine, and looking to be sure the Raskcanava was nowhere to be seen, slipped out into the rain for firewood, pistol in hand. He was back in ten minutes with an armload of wood and a wary glance behind him. Sam had turned on his side and was shivering violently; Dean's jacket had fallen off his shoulders.

"God, Sammy. Hang on. I'll get you warm." He put the wet wood on the stone floor and doused it with lighter fluid from the pack, allowing it to soak in as he searched the mine entrance for enough rocks to make a ring and contain the fire safely. He soon had enough and had a fire going in the mouth of the mine. The fire barely smoked and what little there was drifted out into the night sky like he hoped it would. He moved Sam into the warmth and sat with his little brother's head resting in his lap. He laid Sam so that he could again check the wound and cushion it from the hard floor. The .50 caliber pistol lay within easy reach of Dean as he felt his brother's shivers cease in the heat from the fire. A little while later both he and Sam were dry and warm again. Dean looked around at their surroundings, trying to figure out, without leaving Sam, where the tunnels went and what kind of mine they were in. He pulled his flashlight from his jacket pocket where it still covered Sam and shone the beam on the walls of the mine.

"Looks like coal, Sammy. Why is it we can never get lucky enough to find a hunt in a gold mine?" Sam remained unconscious and Dean stroked back his dark brown hair with a sigh. "You'll be alright. You'll wake up and heal yourself, then we'll put a hole in this Raskcanava, burn the bastard, and put these overgrown Popsicle sticks in our rearview for good." He fell silent, waiting for Sam to wake and the sun to rise.


	8. Chapter 8

At three a.m. the sky was at it's darkest as the rain poured outside their makeshift shelter. The fire had burned low again. Dean had put the last of their wood on it two hours earlier. Sam had still not woken up and Dean knew he had to get more firewood. He eased Sam from his lap onto the floor and stood, regaining feeling in his feet to the sensation of pins and needles in his heels. He rocked back and forth until the feeling stopped and pulled his jacket from Sam. There was enough heat coming from the fire that Sam was warm enough without it. Dean, on the other hand, did not want to get any wetter than he had to. The leather offered good protection. He picked up the pistol and glanced at Sam.

"Be back in a few." He walked outside, weapon ready. He took a moment to relieve himself and began to gather enough wood to see them through until dawn. He wanted to get it inside the mine and give it a chance to dry before he had to put it on the fire. Dean stopped when he heard a rustling in the underbrush. He lowered the firewood to the sodden ground and raised the pistol, looking around warily. He saw nothing. The sounds faded into the distance. He finished filling his arms with wood and turned around, realizing he had walked farther away from the mine than he thought.

Back in the mine Sam stirred. "Dean?" He tried to push himself upright but was quickly leveled by dizziness and a sick feeling. He felt pain in his head and definitely had double vision. _Concussion?_ He thought taking stock of how he felt. His head thumped in tune with his heart and his stomach lurched again. This time he couldn't fight off the nausea and was violently sick on the cavern floor. He moved away from his mess as if in a daze. He was so groggy, dizzy. There was a fire glowing softly in the darkness. It was almost out and he wondered through his haze if Dean started it. _Where is Dean?_

Sam raised a hand to the back of his head and hissed in pain as his hand grazed a very sore, stitched gash. Then he remembered the Raskcanava cornering him and Dean on the trail. It had launched its poison tipped spines at them and Dean tackled him to the ground. He remembered pain and … nothing. He raised his hand to the back of his head again and tried to focus his fuzzy thoughts enough to access his ability to heal. He had a feeling that he had to find Dean. That it was important. His hand glowed and flickered out, returning to normal as Sam was again assaulted with dizziness and a weak feeling. He remained on his knees, trying to force away the darkness crouching at the edges of his vision. He did not want to pass out. He had to find his brother. Sam hung his head until the feelings passed and again tried to make it to his feet, not bothering to try to heal himself.

"Dean?" He questioned louder in the darkness of what he assumed to be the mind that they had run across while tracking the Raskcanava. He lurched to his feet and stumbled, making it to a wall and using it for support as his world spun. "Ohhh." Sam moaned as he was sick again. His heaving stomach empty now of all its contents. His vision again played tricks on him as he neared the opening of the mine. He rested at the doorway, catching his breath and gagging at the awful taste in his mouth. He stumbled outside into the pouring rain.

Sam's jacket quickly became wet as he searched the darkness for his brother. He was reluctant to call out to Dean. He had no idea where the Raskcanava was or if his brother was hunting it. He remembered seeing the backpack in the mine near him and wondered if his brother was armed. He turned and started to go back into the mine. He caught a scent and it made him feel ill again. Wet Dog. The Raskcanava was here. Sam's heart began to pound as he reached for his .45. It wasn't in his waistband. He was unarmed. He tried to ease back inside and was brought up short by a menacing growl behind him.

"Oh god." Sam breathed, dizziness swamping him. He took another wary, slow step towards the fire at the mouth of the cave. If he could get it between him and the animal he could buy himself some time and reach a weapon. The Raskcanava growled again, its spines rattling audibly in the rainy darkness. Sam turned slowly and kept his eyes on the creature, continuing to back into the mine. The creature advanced on Sam with a growl and lowered its head. Spines flew from its neck, barely missing Sam as he ducked. The rapid movement caused him to be hit by an awful weakness, his vision going black as he slumped to the ground, three feet from the fire. The Raskcanava was on him not deterred by the heat and light. It had its prey in its sights.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean had found his way out of the forest and back to the mine, stopping short at the sight before him. The Raskcanava was standing in the entrance to the mine. Sam was unconscious on the ground just a few feet from the beast. Dean reacted instantly and the wood clattered to the ground at his feet. He had the pistol in hand and leveled on the beast's back.

"HEY!" He screamed over the clatter of the falling wood. The Raskcanava's head swung around and yellow eyes glinted in the darkness, holding a lethal intelligence. The animal growled and turned on Dean, forgetting its unconscious prey.

"You son of a bitch, if you hurt him…" _What the f… am I talking to a monster for. _ "Sammy? You okay?" _No response._ The Raskcanava flew into a tirade, again advancing on Dean. It lowered its head, tensing and shot a few poisoned spines in Dean's direction. It growled as Dean dodged the deadly projectiles, lunging. _I gotta get around that bastard. Get to Sammy._ Dean fired the .50 caliber, staggering the beast. It reared and Dean took his shot. It was true. His hand cannon was deadly accurate, the Raskcanava's head was almost severed from its ugly body as the round did its job. The beast dropped a foot from Dean, blood splattering his jeans and boots. He breathed a sigh of relief and rushed to his brother's side.

"Sammy?" He rolled his baby brother over and cradled him. "Sam, come on." His brother groaned. "That's it, come on wake up." Dean checked Sam's head and was relieved to see that it hadn't begun bleeding again. He was also puzzled as to why Sam hadn't healed it.

"Unn…Dean?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"You got the worst end of a tackle, little brother. You're getting soft."

"Funny."

"Can you sit up?"

"Dunno." He tried to rise. "Ohh… sick again." Sam turned away and began to retch, embarrassed, unable to bring anything up since it had all made an appearance earlier. He began to shake and Dean felt helpless to do anything for his brother except run a hand in soothing circles on Sam's spine. Sweat had beaded on his brow when the heaves finally subsided. Dean helped him move closer to the dying fire and lay down. He remembered the firewood lying outside in the rain.

"I'll go get some more wood. We'll just stay here until you feel better."

"'Kay." Sam closed weary eyes. He heard Dean come back in and heard very wet wood sizzle as it contacted the flames. Then he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Why haven't you healed yourself, Sammy?" Dean asked.

"I tried," he said opening his green eyes to meet Dean's worried gaze. "I was so spacey I couldn't concentrate enough. I'll try again." He sat up and wavered as he was assaulted again by dizziness. Dean steadied him.

"Easy, its okay. Give yourself some time to get stronger. You took a nasty hit. Lay back down." Dean said, moving so Sam could rest his abused head in Dean's lap. Dean pushed his bangs out of his eyes and Sam sighed.

"Thanks, man." Sam whispered and was soon asleep.

"Welcome, Sammy."


	10. Chapter 10

The sun came up and the rain ceased. The whole forest looked so peaceful, birds chirping in the tall trees. It still amazed Dean- the transformation that the world underwent when the sun rose. If he wasn't a hunter he could look at the scenery around him and believe nothing dark or evil had ever roamed these woods. He knew better, and the hard evidence was lying just outside the mine entrance waiting to be burned and buried. Sam had to be on his feet for that.

"Sammy?" Dean said softly.

"Mmnn…"

"Good mornin', Princess." Dean teased with a soft smile on his face.

Sam opened much clearer, dark green eyes and sat up. Dean prepared to support him.

"I'm okay, Dean." Sam reached a hand to the back of his head. It took on its healing glow and the wound knitted completely. Sam focused more on his body and the ability, and his green glow turned white, radiating heat. The stitches caught fire, turning to ash and falling out. Dean stared on; amazed that Sam could focus like that. The stitches amidst his hair were the only thing affected by the heat. The glow subsided and Dean examined Sam's head.

"Not a scratch, Sammy." He pulled Sam to his feet. "Come on, we have a hole to dig and a fugly piece of crap to toast."

Sam laughed. "I'll let you do the honors of lighting the match. I get the impression that thing pissed you off."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

Twenty minutes later they had a dug shallow hole big enough to lay the Raskcanava in. Dean doused it with lighter fluid and tossed his Zippo into the hole. Flames jumped into the bright morning sky, the smell of burning hair making Sam and Dean take a step upwind from the hole. Sam took the lighter fluid from the pack and put some on the ground that had soaked up the Raskcanava's blood. He used the camping shovel to turn over a ring of dirt around the blood. Lighting a match from the pack in his pocket Sam burned the last traces of the Raskcanava.

Dean and Sam stayed where they were until the fire died out, leaving nothing behind but ash. They then filled in the holes, returning the leaf litter to an undisturbed state.

"Let's get the hell outta here Sammy. I seriously hate camping."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, me too." They made record time back to the Impala and stirred a cloud of dust as they pulled off the trail onto pavement. Dean floored the car and turned on the radio. Metallica roared through the speakers. _Some Kind of Monster _brought a smile to both boys' faces. They headed onto the next town and the next hunt.


End file.
